


We Could Have Been

by vilesongstress



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 09:17:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10828302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vilesongstress/pseuds/vilesongstress
Summary: Another Rhaegar survives the Trident AU. My attempt at trying to keep everyone happy, both Elia and Lyanna fans. Comments welcome. Big shout out to Mrs Shayla Berries who helped me develop the concept ♡Obvs all credit in the actual creation of this universe belongs to GRRM. I just tampered with the God's design.





	1. Elia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shaylaberries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaylaberries/gifts).



The war was over. News had arrived on white wings speaking of Rhaegar’s victory over the rebel forces at the Trident. Robert Baratheon had died at the hand of Ser Arthur Dayne – a necessary yet sad loss she thought worthy of lighting a candle to the Stranger for, and the new Lord Stark had bent the knee with the promise of his young sister’s safety. Yet hers and her children’s safety was still in jeopardy. Aerys fell deeper into madness with each passing day, hissing about usurpers to himself and young Prince Viserys while glaring at her and her good-mother as though they had had plans to dethrone him. In truth, she did. Had he been a good king, or even just a good man Elia would not be plotting against him so now.

“It should have been done long ago child” the Queen reassured her as she gently rubbed the swell of her belly, “this fools war should have never come to pass”

“Please mother you know as well as I that the King is not the only one to blame for this war” she sighed setting the blanket she was currently knitting for her coming good-brother or sister aside and frowning to herself as her mind raced to make sense of all that had been done.

“Do you hate him love, do you think him mad?” the Queen asked with a sad smile so like her son’s. 

“I do not hate him mother” she sighed reaching out a hand to comfort this Queen she had come to love, “but I do blame him, along with others. Brandon Stark was just as much a fool with reasons even I could understand. But neither he nor Rhaegar are truly mad”

“Aerys was not always this way” came her sad whisper as her eyes seemed to drift off to the past “my father once told me greatness and madness was written in a Targaryen’s fate the moment they were born. And for some, great madness is all they come to achieve”

“He will kill us if he learns of what Rhaegar plans on his return”

“Then we will act first” her Queen commanded looking first to the young knight standing vigil at their door and then to her “we must act first”

Ser Jaime Lannister was but a boy playing at being a knight when he swore vows to the Gods for a white cloak he never truly wished to claim. He had looked at his sworn brothers with awe and listened to the commands of his crowned Prince as though the Father himself had opened the heavens and spoken to him. But that had changed. This prison they called a keep had stripped him of his innocence and a Mad King wielding wildfire had taken away the wonderment that once sparkled in his green eyes. And now she, would strip him of his honor.

“We have only this one window of opportunity Jaime” she begged him holding his hands in hers hoping the affection that had grown between them was true enough for him to heed her wishes “I shan’t abandon you to this treason on your own”

“The prince will be returning soon –“

“He travels to Dorne first and in the moons it could take for him to arrive who knows what madness can be done. To the Queen, to the children. No one need ever know the truth of what happens on this night Jaime, I swear”

“No one need ever know” he finally relented nodding to her and taking her hand to place in the crook of his arm before leading them to the King’s solar with a fierce determination in every stride.

There had to be no question of how the King came to die. Wildfire had been his champion, his blazing green companion, and now wildfire would serve to be his end.

“What brings you into my presence viper wench? I do not recall summoning you –“

“I need not be summoned for this Your Grace” she tells him coldly as she slips the lock of his door into place, Jaime moving quickly to take him by the throat with all the strength his body had.

Aerys had kicked and clawed at her young knight though it was to no avail, she had told Jaime his helm would be required for this mission least the King attempt to leave any telling signs of struggle on the young knight’s face. It was over sooner than Elia had thought, though Aerys was an old man of poor mental health his body was not failing. With one final shake Jaime let the limp body of the King fall to his seat with a lifeless thud, a crazed sneer still spread across his face even now when the Stranger had come to take him.

“It is done” Ser Jaime whispered, panic written on his face as he lifted the visor of his helm.

“Not yet” she told him with the shake of her head, taking one of the glass vials of liquid fire that sat on the King’s desk.

She tipped the contents first over the King then running a path along his desk, she pushed the now empty bottle into Aery’s hand before tipping a candle over and waiting for the flames to engulf him.

“Come quickly now” she told the young knight who seemed to be frozen in his place “Jaime” she called to him, holding his face in her hands until his eyes met hers, “quickly now”

They escaped through one of the secret passages that joined the King’s solar to the Queen’s chamber. Rhaella waiting for them to open the door on the other side with a look of concern in the crease of her brow.

“Thank the Gods” she near cried as she pulled them both into a tight embrace sobs wracking her body as she clung to them “I could have never faced your mothers in the afterlife had anything happened to either of you”

“It is done mother” she whispered gently returning the embrace with care not to disturb the babe that kicked from within her Queen, “fear not it is done”

Smoke took evidence of the fire quickly to the Gold Cloaks who remained within the Keep. Ser Jonothor Darry who had been left with the children came barging through the door with a look of sheer terror on his face.

“Your Grace, princess, you must hurry” he told them completely unaware that the peaceful act of them sewing with Ser Jaime standing guard over them was just that, an act, “fire in the King’s solar. We must take you to safety my ladies”

They rushed through the Keep with as much haste as they could achieve with an aging and heavily pregnant Queen at their heels.

“The children?” Elia demanded realizing the knight was not taking them to the nursery to retrieve Viserys, Rhaenys and Aegon.

“They’re safe in the Sept princess, my duty was to ensure their safety before I came to find you, forgive –“

“Thank you Ser” Elia replied breathlessly instead, relieved to know her children were safely kept far away from the fiery carnage she had created.

“Mama! Mama!” her baby girl had cried upon seeing her, leaping from old Ser Willem’s comforting embrace with her black kitten tucked protectively in her arms, “fire mama, grandpapa started another fire”

“Hush my sweet one, we know not what has happened yet but you are safe, we are all safe”

It had taken the rest of the night and most of the early morning to expel the fire that had quickly spread throughout the royal quarters. Many men and servants had been wounded in their attempts to put out the flames but thankfully no one else had lost their lives. Women and children had gathered in the Sept for safety and prayer giving the Queen empty condolences they did not mean for the sure loss of her lord husband and brother. Her good-mother surprisingly had been a better actress than even Elia thought her capable of as she nodded and thanked every single one, holding a sobbing Viserys tightly to her breast.

“We are safe” the Queen smiled sadly as she held out her hand for Elia to take, the hidden meaning of the words clear to her as Rhaella kissed her fingers and brought her hand up to rest on her face.

“We are safe” she smiled in return wiping away the single tear that fell for the late king that day.

She wrote a quick letter of condolences and dishonest explanations to her Lord Husband later that day from the guest chambers that would now be hers while repairs needed to be done to the holdfast that had served for years as her gilded prison. There was no affection nor declarations of false love in any of her words, simply information she hoped he would receive with some form of relief. It pained her that this letter would be delivered to him in Dorne – her own homeland, a feeling of new betrayal piercing her heart as she watched the black raven take flight high into the sky. But it was not her husband who had hurt her this time, nay, for though he had humiliated her twice now for the whole kingdom to see and whisper about her heart had never truly belonged to Rhaegar. She had never dishonored her vows to her husband, she had too much pride to let her base desires rule her so, but Gods she had wanted to, her own traitor heart had begged her to. Elia’s eyes clouded with tears of her broken heart as she remembered a handsome knight declaring his love to her under the secrecy of night in the Water Gardens. ‘You are my everything’ he had told her when they had been young and hidden away together in their Tower of Joy. ‘I will never truly leave you’ he had promised her the night he had accepted that cursed white cloak. ‘I will always love you’ he whispered to her as they danced a single dance at her wedding feast. ‘He does not deserve you’ he quietly raged after Rhaegar had set a crown of roses on a young she-wolf’s lap. And yet, ‘I cannot desert him’ had been the loudest words he spoke now in her memories, though the look of pain and frustration had been evident in the darkening lavender of his eyes understanding his torment did little to dissipate her own.

“Goodbye Arthur” she let herself whisper, if only to her own heart, as she vanquished what love was left away.

 

_A moon later_

 

A storm had raged across the Crownlands for days now though the Queen’s screams seemed to challenge the thunder that tore across the heavens for dominance.

“Give her peace maester!” she had commanded the fool, worrying for the good-mother she had come to love almost as her own.

“Your Grace, I am doing all that I can” he said with the dip of his head, searching his tables for whatever remedies he could try next.

“Peace love” Rhaella managed to grit out in between her contractions, “if the Stranger comes let him not take this child with me”

Elia tried her best to soothe and comfort her good-mother but understood the woman’s position none the less. She herself had almost felt the kiss of the Stranger both times she had entered the birthing bed and both times she had had someone swear to her that her child would live even if she did not.

“I swear to you, this child shall be loved and cared for all its life”

Her good-mother had smiled then and pushed with a new strength achieved only by the promise of her child’s happiness. It had taken another hour and more pints of blood than Elia had ever seen in all her life and yet nestled in her arms now was the very image of a perfect and healthy baby girl.

“She is you lady mother” Elia had smiled to her dying Queen, tears falling from her eyes as she tried to show her the beauty of the Targaryen princess Rhaella had just brought into the world.

“Daenerys” Rhaella murmured a true smile – so unlike the sad ones she always wore, wide across her face. The storm outside quieting to nothing but a retreating rumble as she struggled to take her last breaths “Daenerys Stormborn”

Elia had cried clutching the babe tight to her breast as the maester and a few silent sisters had worked quickly to ready the body for viewing. The youngest Prince would need to see his mother along with her own little princess who had loved her grandmother in a way she did no one else.

“I do not want her to be dead” Viserys sobbed as he lay next to his mother, tears and mucus smeared across his face as he sought for solace in Rhaella’s lifeless body.

“Neither do I brother” she tried to comfort though she knew it would do little to mend his breaking heart, “but she is not gone, for true I promise you this much”

“Then where is she?” He sniffed turning his face to her now with a confused look.

“She watches us from the heavens and she left us with the best of her” she told him holding out his tiny sister for him to see.

Viserys’ curiosity as always got the best of him as he reached out a hand to move the blankets that wrapped his sister. A flurry of different emotions crossed his expression upon seeing the babe; confusion, anger, frustration, sadness before finally his face settled into a look of adoration.

“She looks like mother doesn’t she sister?”

“Aye, she does. And she will need you, just as Rhaenys needs you. To teach her, love her and protect her always”

His face suddenly became more serious as she put Daenerys in Viserys’ arms gently scooting them both closer to Rhaella so she may take a seat next to them on the edge of the bed.

“I swear to take care of you little sister” he told the babe that was now staring up at him “I swear to take care of all of you” he declared turning to her now and leaning into her embrace. Elia could only smile and hope that her sweet good-brother never changed.

 

_Several moons later_

 

Targaryen banners had been spotted not far from King’s Landing the day before. Elia could only hope that she had until midday to prepare the halls for the return of the new King in waiting. Truth be told the celebration would be lacking, if not poor, due to the few staff King’s Landing had to offer and the fewer still resources. War had done no good for the royal treasury nor had it brought about much popularity amongst the people. While the small folk still looked kindly upon her the same could barely be said of the noble class, though Elia knew in truth beyond the mountains of Dorne she garnered more pity than love. None the less, she would have her Lord Husband find no fault in her or her actions if she could manage it. The children had all been bathed and dressed in their best mourning clothes to greet him, as she herself had chosen to wear a dress of Targaryen black embroidered with blacker still dragons and flourishes. The kitchen and dining hall was alive with the preparations for whatever hot meal she could provide to the men and water was boiling on the fires for the vast number of baths she was anticipating would be most welcomed.

“Mama, is papa really coming back?” Rhaenys questioned her for perhaps the hundredth time.

“Of course he is sweet love, did I not promise you he was always coming back?”

Her daughter’s mouth opened with what she assumed was another question but before it came her young princess frowned to herself closing her lips into a tight line.

“Come now sweet one, have you not missed papa? Will you not be very pleased to see him again?” she tried coaxing hoping her little one’s heart had not been too crushed by the abandonment Elia knew she felt and the terrors she had witnessed since her father’s disappearance.

“I shall try mama” was all she gave before she ran off in search of her tiny black dread to welcome the approaching party with her.

Elia sighed knowing that her daughter’s new feelings towards her sire – while warranted, would be most painful for him to return to. Though she knew better than to claim there was any great love between herself and Rhaegar she also knew Rhaenys was the true beat of his heart. She had been furious with him when she had awaken after laboring their daughter to find that he had named her after the Queen that never was, the one who perished at the hands of her Dornish ancestors after months of cruel torture, the one they called the Dragon’s whore. But –

‘She was the loved Queen’ Rhaegar had told her though his eyes so filled with love never left their daughter as he held her in his arms, ‘from her every Targaryen that now lives descends. They say the conqueror had only one weakness and as I look upon my sweet Rhaenys, I know, I too am weak for her.’

Any fight Elia had left about it had vanished upon witnessing his love for their little one. As misguided as her husband always seemed to be, he had such a way with words that even she struggled to find fault in them. Though her disappointment did not waiver her anger soon subsided – as it always seemed to where Rhaegar was concerned.

“Your Grace” her young Lionknight beckoned as he strode towards her with an excitement she had not seen in him for over a year, encouraging a warm smile from her that was only meant for him and not what was surely the news to come “the prince – I mean the King has arrived, he will be at the steps in mere moments”

“Thank you Jaime, gather the children and inform Ser Jon and Ser Willem, we shall greet him with as much enthusiasm as can be mustered in such dire times”

“Of course Your Grace” he smiled running off with all the speed one could possibly have in such heavy armor.

Elia brushed down her skirts and straightened her spine in a final attempt to ready herself for her husband’s return. She spoke silent prayers to all the Seven, to the Father to give her strength, to the Warrior to give her courage, to the Smith to give her steel in her spine, to the Crone to give her wisdom in her speech, to the Mother to give her acceptance in her embrace, to the Maiden to give her grace in her smile and lastly to the Stranger to give her a swift death should Rhaegar ever learn of her treason.


	2. Rhaegar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have to apologize in advance for how rushed these first few chapters will be/are. I'm only trying to introduce characters and their views on things before I really get into it.
> 
> Anyway all criticism is welcome. Thank you for even bothering to read this if you have ♡

“I am not ready for this Rhaegar” his little she-wolf said bitterly as she fussed with the sheer sheet that covered her and their son, “they will hate us, she will hate us, and Gods old and new know that I surely deserve it”

“No one hates you love” he tried again pressing a gentle kiss to her temple that she all but jolted away from. He sighed to himself trying his best to be patient but finding it more difficult with each passing day.

He had grown to truly love this young dream woman of his over their time together, even though it had not been so in the beginning. In truth he had respected her when he discovered her posing as a mystery knight, he had admired her when her learned of the spirit in her heart, he had even needed her when news came that his lady wife could not give him anymore children without sacrificing herself, but love had not come until her belly had swelled with their child and his prophesies seemed to be fulfilled. Alas, the third head of his dragon did not come as he envisioned they would, nay, instead of a warrior Queen like Visenya who had conquered lands and men alongside her brother, he had received a son who looked more like the bastard brother Orys with his dark locks of hair and his near black, grey eyes. It was only a slight disappointment to be fair, Rhaegar loved all of his children fiercely regardless of whether or not his dreams were to be fulfilled. And his love for his soon to be second wife had survived and dissipated none even with the birth of a boy he had not been expecting.

Rhaegar if he was honest with himself had never truly experienced a love a man felt for a woman before. During their stay in Dorne Lyanna had made her way into his heart the way Elia had long ago, though his Lya had achieved such a feat in an entirely different way with arguably greater results. They could be no more similar to each other in personality and manner as they were in looks, yet still, his heart sung for them in ways he barely knew how to explain. While Elia gave him gentleness and support, Lyanna gave him freedom and hope, both comforting him in their own ever so enchanting ways.

He needed and loved both of them he knew, so with a new conviction he tried once more; “Elia is the sun of her sigil just as you are the direwollf of yours love, she knows only warmth and understanding. If either of us is to witness how a sun of Dorne can burn, I swear, it shall be I”

Lyanna’s brow furrowed in disbelief though she seemed to relax some, “And Jon?” she murmured “will she turn her anger on our Jon?”

He shook his head firmly “I have never seen Elia rise in anger truly, though I do not doubt such feelings can and do exist in her, even after the tourney at Harrenhal, she did not speak to me in anguish. And to think of her being cruel to a babe, regardless of who sired and birthed him, is to think of the sun never rising into the sky again”

“She is a better woman than I” Lyanna all but whispered though there was a relief in the looseness of her shoulders now.

“She is a different woman to you for sure” Rhaegar smiled, chuckling softly as his she-wolf’s grey eyes snapped at him with a look that could silence most, though it was quickly met with a small yet growing smile of her own.

“Do you think perhaps then, maybe, she could come to like me?” she asked hesitantly gently cradling Jon closer to her as though the love of their son protected her heart from all and any harm some would seek to do her “come to like us?”

“If Elia does not come to love you both in her own way, in her own time, the fault shall lie with me” he told her truthfully, “but if my word is not enough for you my lady, ask Ser Arthur Dayne, he has known my lady wife far longer than I and if I recall he is the truest knight in all the land, or so you have informed me”

He laughed and dodged as she reached out a hand to slap his shoulder, a slight blush of embarrassment colouring the bridge of her nose and her cheeks as she ducked her head in what he assumed was shame.

“Do not say that so loud, I couldn’t bare the thought of Ser Arthur teasing me for it”

“He wouldn’t tease, that is not the man Arthur is” he reassured though his taunting smile had yet to leave his face “besides I would imagine Arthur would blush a deeper shade of red than you if he ever heard such compliments”

A comment that quickly earned him another attack though she was quick to laugh now wholly and truly.

‘My wild she-wolf’ Rhaegar thought fondly to himself, ‘there you are’

“Your Grace” the firm deep voice his Lord Commander beckoned from outside the wheelhouse.

“Forgive me Lya” he told her quickly as he called the litter to a halt, “shall I send your lord brother to keep you company for the remainder of the journey?”

Although he had intended for it to be an offer of kindness and support to her, her look of shame and hurt only returned ten fold, “please don’t, I do not wish to trouble Ned more than I already have”

He knew not what had passed between the siblings since Lyanna had awaken after she had struggled to birth their Jon, but he saw the pain in her eyes every time she would stare in the direction of her brother, and the solemn almost broken expression he wore when Rhaegar would speak to him of his sister. The bond that she had once spoken of so lovingly seemed to have shattered with the new Lord Stark’s realization of the truth.

‘Was it for love?’ his soon to be good-brother had asked him as they supped around a small campfire together.

‘It was for more’ was all Rhaegar could tell him as his mind drifted back to prophesies and thoughts of a winter war.

Aye, many bonds would need healing throughout the realm and theirs was only one of them. Though it gave him no joy to know he played no small part in their separation, he knew there were other relationships that required his attention more.

“We near the Red Keep, Your Grace” his Lord Commander informed him as he mounted his horse, “I shall position the guards around you and the lady should we meet any resistance”

“Thank you Ser Gerold” he smiled appreciatively “though I hope your caution is unnecessary”

Rhaegar steered his horse to the front of their party, noting the castle he had called home all his life coming ever nearer in the short distance. Ser Arthur Dayne rode steadily in the front lines as he had on their way to the battle on the Trident, though now he seemed far more uncomfortable and wary than he had then.

“Do not tell me a gathering of small folk and nobles frightens you my friend” Rhaegar tried to jest though he knew for true what bothered the valiant Sword of the Morning. He had suspected something was amiss on the first few days after his wedding vows were spoken to his gentle wife. Arthur had the look of a brooding storm as he shadowed Rhaegar night after night to Elia’s chambers in order to perform his husbandly duties.

‘It is nothing that you can remedy, my Prince’ Arthur had told him when Rhaegar had finally questioned his dearest friend about the change in his demeanour.

It had taken years and a crown of blue winter roses for Arthur Dayne to finally snap; ‘You were given the greatest and most precious jewel in all the kingdom and yet you spit on her for no more than a mere child’ he had raged, revealing to Rhaegar what deep down he had seen all along.

He was no dullard. He had caught the way Arthur would gaze after Elia as she trailed off behind their adventurous daughter through the keep. And he had witnessed on more than one occasion when Elia would avert her eyes from the shining knight after staring perhaps a moment too long. But the dragon in him was possessive and though he could not blame them for whatever feelings they had clearly began brewing long before either of them had ever come to know him, he would not tolerate it.

‘She is mine’ Rhaegar had warned his friend in a growl that was barely controlled ‘think what you might about me or my treatment towards her, but I will never let her go, am I understood?’

‘Perfectly, my Prince’ Arthur had relented though he could see clear enough in the burning of his eyes that it was reluctantly so.

“You know I have no tact for these things” Arthur grunted now as he forced a seemingly genuine smile to his face for the small folk who cheered his name.

Rhaegar could almost laugh at his awkwardness if it were not for the truth of the matter. They would both have to face Elia, his Elia, soon enough and though they had different reasons to find it so daunting, Rhaegar could not afford even his brother in all but blood any sympathy.

He had received little word from his lady wife, only three short missives in full. The first spoke of congratulations for his victory over the lords that had rebelled against him and his father, asking only for his swift return. The second had arrived with news of his lord sire’s passing, an empty apology for the loss followed by a pledge to him as her new King. And the third, the one that made his heart shatter in his chest told him of his lady mother’s passing – though this time the condolences were true and heart felt, followed quickly by the announcement of his long desired baby sister, Daenerys Stormborn their mother had named her, ‘she is the best of our beloved Queen’ Elia had said in her own loving way. And though all of this had been written as eloquently as he was sure only his lady wife could achieve he did not miss the way she called him ‘Lord Husband’ and eventually ‘Your Grace’, nor the way she avoided any intimate news of her or their children.

He supposed he deserved such distance from her after all he had done in the year that had passed. Rhaegar hoped she would understand for he had told her enough times what he believed this prophecy meant for him and in turn the realm. Elia had given him a nod and a reassuring enough smile after he explained his actions at Harrenhal to her, and though her lips had been set in a tight line when he told her ‘the dragon has three heads’ she had allowed him to hold her as they lay with each other the night before he left for Lyanna.

Elia was quick to forgiveness and comfort, he knew, and in his need – or perhaps selfishness, he would seek it from her once again with the promise to never abandon or disappoint her in their future together.

It had taken mere moments that felt like an eternity for the steps of the Red Keep to come into sight, and there, standing as proudly and dutifully as always was his Dornish wife, her chin held with a dignity that spoke volumes of her royal lineage, a small smile on her lips, and two very Targaryen children cradled in each of her arms. A girl who looked to be her miniature clutched her skirts with one hand as her other held firmly to his young brother who seemed to be explaining something to her which made her squirm closer to her mother. The relief of seeing them all safe and well washed over him like a refreshing seaside wave. The smile now lighting up his face holding none of the usual melancholy that he was so known for.

“Welcome home Lord Husband” Elia seemed to sigh with the same sort of relief as she tried to dip into a curtsey restricted by the babes in her arms, “it brings us all great comfort to see you arrive back safely”

“As it brings me great joy to see you all here before me” he answered reaching for the babe he had no doubt was his Aegon. She surrendered their son to him and turned her attentions to the two older children quietly ushering them forward.

“Welcome home brother” Viserys said first coming forward slightly tugging at the tiny hand he still held tightly “say hello Nyssie” he whispered with some authority looking back at him quickly with a tense sort of smile.

“Welcome” his tiny love squeaked before she abandoned his brother’s hand completely to bury herself further away into her mother’s skirts. Something that had him frowning and looking to his wife for clarity – he received none.

“I am sure you are all quite tired from your journey my lord, food is being prepared for the feast and hot waters cool for you all in your much needed baths” she gave smiling almost cheerily instead, something that made the men chuckle and become slightly more at ease.

“Please then, the Keep is yours” she announced with another slight bow.

“My lady” he tried though he noticed her attentions were now focused on the wheelhouse that had trailed slowly behind their party.

“I shall stand vigilant and greet all our guest my lord” she told him though her eyes quickly went to Ser Jaime who had been standing behind her almost hiding away in the shadow of the keep, “Jaime please have Ser Willem escort the children with you to the nursery, I am afraid they have become quite restless in their wait”

“Yes Your Grace” the young knight obeyed, swiftly taking whom Rhaegar could only assume was his baby sister from her arms, “and if I might say Your Grace” he added with a warm smile, bowing low but holding the new Targaryen princess tight to his chest “it is so very good to have you back”

“It is good to be back Ser Jaime” he smiled in return, watching as the young knight coaxed his Rhaenys away from her mother with some ease, whispering something to her that had her running off with a giggle.

“That blasted kitten” Elia murmured through a smile that he realized was there solely for the comfort of the rest of the party, “I swear I had to promise her the heavens just to have her welcome you without it”

He let out a soft laugh at that, feeling less tense with the sudden yet welcome informality of their conversation, “Is the little beast still so very dreadful?”

“Quite, you have no idea the damage such a small thing can do to such expensive tapestries” she frowned though he laughed truly now. He had missed this, deeply he had. Elia had a calming way about her that he had never stopped appreciating.

“You are not wroth with me?” he asked carefully once a silence had slowly crept up on them

“Do not doubt there is much that I am wroth with you for Rhaegar” her eyes focused on the wheelhouse that had come to a halt now at the steps “but they deserve none of it” she whispered as Ser Oswell took the pale hand that reached out of the carriage, “and they shall receive none of it”

She smiled again now, that formal smile he knew she possessed for courtly matters, as his young wife to be made her way sheepishly towards them, her brother following behind looking a thousand times more uncomfortable.

“My Lady and Lord Stark” she spoke gently, a look of true sympathy in her eyes, “this place has seen great injustices done to you and yours, though I pray you can both accept our hospitality now none the less?”

“Thank you Your Grace” Eddard quietly received after quickly composing himself from what Rhaegar saw as both shock and then grief.

“I” Lyanna tried hesitantly as she shuffled Jon from one position to another in her arms, “I am both thankful and apologetic” she said shooting a desperate look to her brother who could still not look at her and then to him “Y-your Grace”

“Enough of that now” Elia reassured warmly, not a hint of disdain in her voice “come our young princess must be quite exhausted having endured such a journey at such a young age”

“P-princess?” Lyanna asked baffled by the comment, though Rhaegar understood completely. ‘I had told her a foresaw a Visenya, and I have returned with a Jon’

“The babe is a boy, my lady” he told her when no one else would speak or move.

Her eyes suddenly bore into Rhaegar as though he was the greatest fool in all the realm before returning to Lyanna with a new found sympathy “the young Prince then my lady, come those damnable wheelhouses are a plague to have to bare, I should hope you find more comfort here”

Lyanna stared at Elia hopefully before looking to Rhaegar for confirmation that this was in fact real – though he could hardly believe it himself, he could only smile to her reassuringly before falling into step behind his ever so dutiful wife.

He couldn’t help to compare them as he stared down at Aegon and then looked over to Jon who lay awake but silent in Lyanna’s arms. They were nearly complete opposites, Aegon was all his with his gold yet platinum hair, and his milky skin. Rhaegar had no doubt once he awakened he would see staring back at him eyes in a shade of violet, valyrian features through and through. Yet as he examined more closely he saw Elia in the forming of a sharp widow’s peak, the fullness of his pink pouty lips and the heart shape of his face. Jon was all Lyanna he knew, though she swore he was more her late brother Brandon. With the mess of dark curls that had already grown on his head and the steel in his eyes he knew would never fade. He had looked for himself in his youngest son for many hours, yet could only find it in his already sorrowful expression and the proportions his features came to rest on his long Stark face. Regardless Rhaegar couldn’t help but smile, three children, three heads of his dragon, and yet no three could possibly look more different.

The feast had been uncomfortable for a number of reasons, the sparse decor reminded him that the Keep had indeed undergone casualties of its own due to his father’s madness, the food spoke volumes for the lack of gold in the royal coffers, the entertainment was non existent and in the silence the scraping of spoons against bowls was almost as deafening as the hushed murmurs, and the wine was poured to fill cups halfway before it quickly ran out. Rhaegar, of course, blamed none of this on their hostess. Elia had clearly gone through great pains to make the best of what she had. The seating arrangements had been almost impeccable, with the only exception being the two Starks seated to his right in grave and solemn silence. This he could not fault her for, for truly she was no seer and could not have predicted the distance that now existed between the two. Elia tried where Lyanna would – or could, not make idle conversation with those who seemed to be dwelling on the contents of their soup. All the while smiling graciously at their guests receiving warm enough ones in return.

“Brother, did the usurper die quickly or did he suffer as father said?” Viserys questioned casually enough though a new tension fell over the hall with a complete silence.

“Viserys” he hissed through his teeth making the boy shrink away from him and stammer for words.

“Brother” Elia’s voice came in a chastising tone, one he had heard often after Harrenhal, “what is it I told you about the late Lord Robert?”

“That he was our cousin” his brother said apologetically as he stared down at his hands in his lap.

“And we mourn the loss of our family –“

“No matter the circumstances” he finished, still looking entirely disappointed in himself, “sorry brother, sorry everybody” Viserys added tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Hush sweet” she gave gently now, “go with Ser Jonothor to the nursery, you may head to the kitchens first and retrieve some sweets for you and Rhaenys but no more than three each” she hummed with a kiss to the crown of his head.

Viserys kissed Elia thankfully on the cheek then before rushing off with Ser Jon in tow, whispering more apologies and bidding everyone goodnight as he left the dining hall.

“It is my fault to have seated him with us when he is still not ready for such things” Elia muttered almost to herself with a frown, “my lords” speaking more clearly now she searched the room for attention, “as you all know our late King had lost whatever sanity he had little grasp of. Many casualties to his madness are well known throughout the realm” a comment that had Lyanna tensing beside him as she reached for his hand under the table, “yet some are only presented to us in the form of lost innocence. I implore you all to understand while the residents of this keep fought no war beside you, we fought one none the less. We suffered here, as I am sure, you yourselves have all suffered. I wish for nothing but peace now, for all of us, if you would all so willingly agree to it?”

Elia’s gentle interrogation was met with a solemn symphony of ‘ayes’ and ‘peace’ that she met with an appreciative nod each time, stunned into silence he could only look at her as though she was truly the Queen and he, her mere consort. Reaching for her hand under the table with the free one he wasn’t holding his other Queen’s with he nodded to her in understanding.

“Peace” Rhaegar, First of his name declared.


End file.
